


Marcus Mashed

by kooili



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Mashed Potato Ficathon, marcus piper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 00:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14532990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/pseuds/kooili
Summary: Mash :verbreduce (a food or other substance) to a pulpy mass by crushing itnouna soft mass made by crushing a substance into a pulp, sometimes with the addition of liquid.Marcus tries to impress at a party but runs into Serena instead.





	Marcus Mashed

Serena leaned up against the counter of the bar, a bored face in the usual black and white attire appearing predictably just moments later. She smiled as she gave her order. “Shiraz, large.”

“And I’ll have a whisky. Double on the rocks,” a voice sounded from behind her, vaguely familiar. Serena racked her memory to place it, straining for a few seconds before giving up. She pushed herself up onto a barstool and turned round to face her new companion.

“Ms Campbell, it’s been a while,” the stocky figure greeted her, a slight slur in his speech. 

It only took a moment to notice that the designer suit, well cut and horribly expensive as it must be, would have have been a better fit for the man occupying it two sizes ago. She filed that fact away in her head, possibly to be shared with her wife later.

“Mr Dunn. What a surprise.” Serena had to call on her perfected skill of maintaining an impassive look in spite of the situation.

Marcus grunted as he hefted his bulk up onto a bar stool, teetering a little before he steadied himself enough to swivel and face Serena. Their orders arrived almost immediately and he waved the the bartender away dismissively once their drinks were set down.

“Tell me about it,” he grinned, taking a large gulp out of the tumbler. “I thought that this,” he waved a shaky hand, “was meant to be an exclusive affair.”

Serena narrowed her eyes and stared hard. “Oh?”

He widened the gesture into a broad sweep of his arm across the room. “Didn’t think they’d just let anyone in to this wedding. The McKinnies are very particular about who they invite to their shindigs.”

Serena had to bite her tongue and resist the urge to ask how Marcus got in if that were the case. She settled for an enquiring look instead which he took as an invitation to elaborate. “They told me so. I’m very good friends of the family you see; Wills and I go way back.” 

Serena winced at the diminutive of her cousin’s name. Willy McKinnie might have been the eminent head of a faculty at one of the poshest universities in the country, but hell would sooner freeze over before he allowed any of his friend to call him Wills. Marcus was no more a pal of his than Serena was friends with the Queen.

She looked round the room, looking to see if she could find Bernie, but her wife was nowhere to be seen. Serena sighed resignedly. It was, she supposed one of the burdens of being married to a world-renowned surgeon. They had barely finished dinner before her cousin had appeared at their table with a glass of Shiraz for Serena and a tumbler of whisky for Bernie. There had been an ulterior motive, of course as had been quickly revealed. One of his friends, Willy had explained, a professor of trauma medicine, was a long time admirer of her work and wondered if he could be introduced to the illustrious Berenice Wolfe. Serena remembered watching as Bernie had shook her head and demurred. Shop-talk had been the last thing on her mind at a social function like this and she couldn’t possibly abandon Serena. 

There had been an understanding dip of Willy’s chin in agreement before he sighed. “He’ll be so disappointed but I’ll tell Reginald that you said no.”

Bernie had smiled and reached for her tumbler before she froze, as if struck by a bolt of ice. She then turned, almost in slow-motion back towards Willy who, Serena had observed, wore a knowing glint in his eyes which was quickly transforming into a broad smile stretching across his face.

“You don’t mean Reginald McCormick?” Bernie’s eyes finally widened.

Willy then nodded. “Yes, but he’ll understand. This is hardly the place for talking shop. Enjoy the evening, ladies.” He had straightened himself and started in the opposite direction, evidently to deliver the news.

Serena almost chuckled aloud  as she recalled the image of her favourite mop of hair whipping round so quickly it was barely a smear of blonde in edge of her vision. “Well, yes, of course.” Bernie had reluctantly pulled her gaze back towards her drink before sneaking a glance at Serena. 

She hadn’t been able to resist it before they were together and hadn’t yet discovered a way to do so since. Serena had resigned herself to the fact that it was impossible to say no when her wife chose to wear that particular look. 

“Darling, just go.” 

That single phrase had immediately earned her a warm kiss and happiest brown eyes.

The woman must have been a prize-winning Labrador in a past life.

Bernie had soon trotted away after Willy, chattering excitedly, watched by Serena, a fond smile on her face. It hadn’t taken long for her to empty her glass and find herself where she was now.

“So, how did you get an invite?” Marcus’ voice pulled her back to the present. 

She stared at him and pondered for a moment. Bernie was nowhere to be seen and she could just sit here, bored, while waiting. There was, of course a more amusing way to pass the time.

“We go way back as well,” Serena answered smoothly.

Marcus perked up at her answer. “You must be a friend of Wills’ wife…” He scrabbled for a second before coming up with a name. “...Lola. Or Lona.”

“Actually, it’s Laura,” Serena interjected.

“Yes, of course. Never spoken to her. We don’t have much in common.” He sniffed, almost disdainfully.

Serena’s mouth barely hid a grin as she thought to herself - too right - but she was curious to hear his opinion of her lovely cousin-in-law. “Why is that?

Marcus snorted, “She excused herself looking bored within minutes the one time we met. It was fine by me of course. The conversation we were having would have gone over her head.”

Serena could just picture the scene: Laura rolling her eyes at this condescending buffoon of a man. She would have been more than delighted to be rid of his company. 

_ Speaking of which… _

The tall red-headed woman had spotted Serena and was walking over with a smile. Marcus’s back was turned towards her and Serena managed a small hand signal to urge her closer but not to reveal her presence. Laura took one look at them and nodded, an inquisitive look on her face. They had known each other for years, all the way back to medical school, and she immediately knew that the wicked glint in Serena’s eyes meant that this was was going to be interesting. 

“I take it that you didn’t think she was the sharpest nail in the tool box then,” Serena prodded.

“Not a chance. We were talking about a paper Wills wrote and the technicalities would have been way too complicated for her.”

“Come now, Mr Dunn. She is a consultant after all.” Despite the fun she was having, his obvious oafishness was starting to wear her patience thin.

“She had enough brains to become a doctor I suppose,” he conceded, a loud burp punctuating his statement. “At least she had the good sense to stick to a suitable speciality.”

“Suitable?” 

“Can’t remember what exactly but I think she’s a gynaecologist. Or something to do with women’s bits.”

“And that’s more suitable than…” Serena trailed off, inviting Marcus to tighten his own noose.

“Surgery,” he announced, instantly falling into her trap. “Some disciplines are better left to men, don’t you think? Present company notwithstanding.” Even in his inebriated state, he had a scrap of recollection that he was talking to a female surgeon. “But you do vascular surgery, the delicate stuff, and that doesn’t really take a lot of stamina or strength does it? Or even...”

Serena almost wanted him to finish the sentence the way she knew he would. In her head, she was already pondering how much trouble she would get into for physically assaulting a drunken buffoon. Fortunately for Marcus, something caught his eye and he pulled up, steadying his hand against the bar. 

“And that’s just the perfect example of what I mean.” His eyes focused as best as they could given his stupor and Serena swivelled round to see what he meant. Bernie was picking her way across the room headed towards her. Her face brightened when she found Serena.

Marcus stared at Bernie for a moment, his substantial form partly blocked by the crowd and Serena. 

“Trauma surgery. Now that’s the kind of stuff that should be left to boys. Nearly turned her into a frigging dyke you know.”

Laura observed as Serena froze before turning round in slow-motion. It was like watching a scene from a movie before someone got a fist in the gut or a knee in the crotch. 

“What?”

Marcus carried on oblivious to how close he was to edge of the ravine. “Oh, that didn’t last. She’s still mooning over me, I’m sure. Look…” He pointed as she drew closer.

Serena craned her head round to see what he was indicating to. It was her wife’s left hand. 

“She’s still wearing the wedding ring after all this time. You know what they say,” Marcus said, in a passable impression of an oil slick. “Once you’ve had the Dunn, you’re done,” he finished off chuckling loudly at his own joke. Serena gave him a look that would have incinerated toast if only he was still sober enough to notice.

“Is that so?” Serena suppressed the instinct to punch him in the face and decided on a different tactic. “Must be your irresistible charm,” she let the words ooze out barely able to stop herself from shuddering.

HIs glazed eyes swung away from Bernie and landed on Serena’s face. “I’ve heard it said, once or twice.” His gaze dropped onto Serena’s hand which was wrapped around the stem of her wine glass. “I don’t see a ring. Perhaps we should catch up some time. I might even give you a tour of my theatre and show you my equipment.” Marcus leaned closer, his hand grabbing the edge of the bar a little tighter. 

Serena glanced up at Laura, whose face was a picture of glee by this point. She leaned forward and his eyes drew like magnets to creamy swells of her cleavage, just inches away. Marcus was about to edge a little closer when Bernie’s voice sounded behind them.

“What on earth are you doing here?” 

Serena answered smoothly. “Mr Dunn was just telling me how you’re still mooning after him. Bernie, you should have said.”

Marcus turned towards Bernie with a disdainful leer. “I bet you came as a plus one for an excuse to run into me.” He slurred his words so badly that Bernie ended up looking at him in confusion.

“Yes. He was telling me all about how surgery was a man’s job and was just offering to show me his equipment,” Serena added and waited for Bernie’s reaction. 

Bernie stared at him for a long moment and sidled up between them. Marcus grinned sloppily and puffed out his chest in anticipation of his ex-wife reaching out for a kiss or a hug at least. It was possibly a combination of surprise, gravity and the fact that Bernie pulled back and slid an arm round Serena’s waist instead, pulling her in immediately for a deep kiss. Marcus stared, glassy-eyed and was about to speak when he suddenly swayed, quickly sliding away from their eye-line until he sprawled inevitably across the carpet at their feet. 

Serena slid off her stool with considerably more grace, tilting her head up to give Bernie another kiss. Laura was, at this point, failing miserably at playing the gracious hostess and resorted to covering the huge grin on her face with a hand. 

Marcus rolled around for a moment, put a hand up to his forehead to check for any injuries and pulled it back to reveal crimson stains on his fingers. He looked round wildly His eyes widened as he realised who Laura was. 

“Mrs McKinnie. So nice…”

She cut him off with a blistering look that rivalled Serena’s and Bernie’s. Marcus whimpered. “I think I’ve hurt my head.”

“Nothing I can do here,” Serena remarked after a half-glance. “Doesn’t look like a vascular injury.”

“And I couldn’t possibly fix anything traumatic without an able-bodied man present,” Bernie added.

He looked desperately at Laura, his last hope.

She gave him a considered look before finally speaking. “I suppose I might be able to help. I do deal with female genitalia for a living after all.”


End file.
